


Fish

by fulfilled



Category: Gilmore Girls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 08:35:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5199293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fulfilled/pseuds/fulfilled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A moonlit night, a dance, a tuxedo... a fish?  RJ fluff.</p><p>Originally published July 24, 2006.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fish

**Author's Note:**

> Because, apparently, I don't write enough Rory/Jess fluff.

Jess was lying on his back staring up at the sky when Rory found him. "Hey," she whispered as she approached him, slipping off her high heels and dangling them by the straps hooked on her index finger.

"Why are you whispering?" he chuckled, speaking at a normal volume.

She shrugged, her silhouette moving against the moonlight. "It just seemed… sacred," she tried to explain. "I didn't want to intrude on your moment."

"So instead, we're having a conversation about how you didn't want to intrude?" he asked. "Kind of defeats the purpose, doesn't it?"

"I can go back," she offered nonchalantly, slipping one shoe back on her foot.

"Nah, it's okay," he said, and she could hear his smile in the dark.

Rory slipped the shoe off again, setting them both down beside his black dress shoes, which were sitting neatly in a pair with his socks tucked inside of them. Hiking the long skirt of her champagne-colored silk dress up to her knees, she sat down beside him, letting her bare feet dangle off the edge and skim the water.

"I never pictured you as a 'watching the stars' kind of guy," she giggled, leaning back on her hands, tipping her head back to take in the sky.

"I'm not," he protested. "There were just too many people out there, and I'd been ogled a few too many times by Miss Patty." He tugged on her wrist on the last word, making her lose her balance and topple down on the bridge beside him.

"Jess!" she squealed, the air rushing out of her lungs as her back hit the bridge.

"What?" he asked innocently, staring straight up into the sky.

"Be nice," she complained, smacking him lightly in the stomach. He grabbed her hand, trapping it, and interlaced their fingers, pulling her head onto his shoulder with his other arm.

"I'm always nice," he replied, his voice getting huskier.

She sighed and snuggled her head into his shoulder, shrugging his arm more tightly around herself as a cool night breeze nipped across her skin, raising goosebumps along her arms and collarbone. "Don't lie," she murmured into his shoulder. "You're not always nice." She felt, rather than heard, his chuckle as he ran a hand up and down her arm. "But you look nice."

"Oh, you think so?" he asked, playfully puffing up his chest.

"Yup." She raised herself up on one elbow and fingered the bow tie than hung undone, loose around his neck. "You should wear a tux more often."

He snorted. "Right. It'll get a lot for you to get me in one of these ever again, Missy."

"Missy?" she repeated, incredulous. "I can't believe you just called me 'Missy'! Who are you—my grandmother?"

"I hope not!" he retorted, sitting up halfway and leaning over to kiss her gently, cupping her face with his hand.

When he pulled back, she grinned, snuggling her nose into his shoulder. "Definitely not my grandma," she said, pulling him back down onto the bridge beside her.

"Can we please stop talking about Emily?" he groaned.

"Okay," she smiles impishly. "You really do look good, though," she said, more seriously. "I still can't believe she got both of you to wear tuxes! That was an occasion for pictures if I ever saw one."

"And which one of us was more of a surprise?" he asked, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her abdomen.

"I'm not sure," she said slowly, deliberating. "Probably him. But I wouldn't complain if you had to wear one again one of these days."

"Yeah, don't get too used to me dressed up like this," Jess chuckled, pulling her closer and kissing the top of her head. "But you look gorgeous."

"What? Oh—thank you," she replied, slightly flustered. "But you didn't have to say that just because I told you that you look good."

"That's not what you were going for?" he teased.

"I wasn't fishing!" she protested, a pink flush rising in her cheeks.

"I know," he reassured her after a few seconds. "I wasn't being a fish."

"You what?"

"If you were fishing for a compliment and I responded, that would mean that I took the bait; therefore, I would be a fish," he explained, deadpan. "But you weren't fishing, and I made a true statement with no outside prompting, so I'm not a fish."

She nudged his foot with hers, sending a spray of water up onto his rolled-up pant cuff. "You're insane," she giggled as he caught her ankle with his foot, tangling their feet together.

"Only a little," he replied with a grin. "No more than you."

They fell silent, and Rory let her eyes drift shut, a small smile playing at her lips as she felt his breathing begin to slow down and steady to match hers.

"Today was pretty perfect, wasn't it?" she finally said, slightly reluctant to break the silence.

"Mmmhmmm," he mumbled, shifting slightly and pulling her even closer.

"Everything was amazing," she continued lazily, her voice low and relaxed. "Everything that Mom was worried about came through in the end, and I think it was everything that she'd always dreamed of."

"Well, it'd better be perfect by now," he replied. "It's taken them long enough to get here."

"But they're here now, and that's most important." She swung her feet up onto the bridge, the smooth silk pooling on the rough wood, lying perpendicular to him with her head on his stomach. His hand went automatically to her hair, wrapping one strand around his finger, winding and unwinding it repeatedly.

"Listen," she said suddenly, turning her head to try and hear better.

His fingers stopped running through her hair, and they both froze, perfectly still with only the moonlight illuminating them, like a black-and-white photograph. The sounds of Ella Fitzgerald's voice crooning "At Last" floated over the trees, rising above the laughter and murmurs of conversation that had been drifting in and out of their picture-perfect sanctuary the entire time they had been lying there.

"Dance with me," Rory requested, rolling up on her knees and holding out a hand to pull Jess up.

He took her hand, trying to pull her down beside him again. "I already danced with you tonight. Several times, if I remember."

She sat up again, pouting playfully. "You danced with me as the best man dancing with the maid of honor."

"And that makes a difference?" he countered. "I still danced with you."

"Jess," she stretched out his name, raising one eyebrow at him.

"Rory," he returned, the smirk that he'd been trying to hide finally breaking through on his face.

She tugged his hand again, and he pulled his feet out of the water, swinging them up onto the bridge, and let her pull him into a standing position, his pant legs rolled up, his tie undone, and his jacket long since discarded. The momentum of his body knocked her off balance, and she fell forward into his chest, giggling as her nose smashed into his collarbone.

"I thought you wanted to dance with me, not injure me," he teased, wrapping his arm around her waist, the slightly rough tips of his fingers snagging the delicate fabric of her dress.

"Whatever it takes to incapacitate you so you don't get away," she replied with a grin, resting her head against his shoulder as they danced barefoot to the music that was still floating across the lake, leaving a trail of wet footprints across the bridge.

"It was," Jess said softly in her ear when the song ended and they were dancing to the sound of water lapping up against the bridge and the distant bursts of laughter that wove through the trees.

"Was what?" she asked, pulling her head back slightly to see his face.

"Pretty perfect," he replied, and she let her head drop back down onto his shoulder, her face relaxing into a tired smile. His hand tightened around her waist, and she could feel him inhale deeply before he continued speaking. "Why don't we give them some competition?"

Rory's feet stopped moving. "What?" she asked, her head still resting on his chest.

"I think it's our turn for a 'pretty perfect' day," he said, letting go of her right hand and reaching quickly into his pocket, reclaiming her hand and continuing their dance so quickly that she almost didn't have time to realize that he had let go in the first place. "And I think that our wedding day could pass 'pretty perfect' and end up being just… perfect."

She pulled back from him again, her eyes filling with tears, and met his eyes, finally comprehending what he was saying. "Are you…"

He stopped their dance and took her hands in both of his. "For you, I'll wear a tuxedo again, and I'll let Miss Patty ogle me in said tux, and I'll dance in front of the whole town again, and I'll stay permanently incapacitated so that I can't go anywhere," he said, slipping a simple white gold ring with three small diamonds onto her left ring finger.

She grinned at him through her tears. "You'll be my fish?" she asked, half-laughing, half-crying.

"I'll be your fish," he answered with a matching grin, sucking in his cheeks and puckering his lips at her in a fish-mouth, sending them both into giggles until he pulled her back into his arms, and all thoughts of fish were forgotten as the moonlight glinted, reflecting off her champagne silk dress and the diamonds on her finger, making the ring wink back at the sky.


End file.
